


3 AM: Part Two

by Trashland (Destieltrashland)



Series: 3AM [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Asexual Castiel, Gen, Human Castiel, Human Gabriel, Marijuana, Mechanic Dean, Recreational Drug Use, Stoner Castiel, Writer Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 21:23:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6130528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destieltrashland/pseuds/Trashland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is a writer/professional stoner who is trying to write his second book. He meets a new friend and finds some inspiration.<br/>-------------<br/>Cas turned his head, a smile already on his face, and found a man sitting on the stool next to him. The guy was smiling too, with straight white teeth and crinkles around his eyes. Cas squinted as he stared at the man, focusing first on his freckles, then on the light stubble covering his very square chin, and then on the clear green of his irises. The man was watching him with interest, his eyebrow raised. </p><p>“Are you stoned?” the guy said. </p><p>Cas tilted his head a little to the side, thinking about his answer. “Generally, yeah.” </p><p>The guy barked a laugh. “Well how’s that for honesty.” He flashed Cas another brilliant smile, “Name’s Dean.” He held out his hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moontourist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moontourist/gifts).



> Part One informs Part Two and visa versa but each can be read as a standalone.
> 
> Not beta'd

Cas woke up hot, a thin film of sweat covering his neck and his shirt sticking to his back. He felt a weight on his chest and something warm pressed against his side. He huffed out a breath, groaning at the light in the room and the headache that was now making itself apparent. The weight on his chest shifted, a slim leg curved over his knee and something brushed his foot. He felt a small hand trail up his chest and then nails scratching down it, not hard but in a way that made the skin under his t-shirt react, goosebumps racing across his chest. _Shit._ He slid one eye open slowly, squinting against the piercing sunlight and looked down. A light head of hair greeted him there, longish – probably female, he thought. His eye slipped closed again and he took a few deep breaths as he tried to remember who’s couch he’d crashed on last night. He knew he had been at a party at Meg’s but he couldn’t remember much else after that. 

He opened his eyes again and looked down once more. Still blonde, so the girl was definitely not Meg then. He shifted, trying to remove himself from the situation and felt the headache intensify. _Fantastic._ He managed to get his arm out from under her and rubbed at his eyes, willing his hangover to calm down until he could get out of here. He moved again, more forcefully this time, scooting away from the warm press of the body next to him. The girl groaned in sleep and rolled over, her back to him now. He let out another breath, reveling in the cooler air. He sat up carefully, trying not to wake the girl and managed to topple off the side of the couch, actually futon he now noted. He sat on the threadbare carpet for a moment as a wave of nausea rolled through him. He looked around the room before standing and heading towards the closest door. He hoped it was a bathroom. It wasn’t. The small bedroom was done in shades of black and red, the large bed sitting empty. He shut the door again, leaning against the frame before lurching towards the next one. 

The cold tile felt wonderful under his knees and against his palms. He laid his forehead on his folded arms and thanked the universe that the toilet was clean. Throwing up was awful but throwing up in a dirty toilet was worse. He gagged again, wondering how he could possibly have anything else left in his stomach at this point. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stood, holding onto the sink for support. He sucked handfuls of water into his mouth, swishing and rinsing before swallowing a few handfuls down. He splashed his face. The cool water tingled on his skin. He looked up, catching his own eyes in the mirror. They were bloodshot and had purplish bags under them. His hair was a mess, but that was actually pretty normal for him. Opening the medicine cabinet, he took down an aspirin bottle, shaking out a few pills before swallowing them with another handful of water. He groaned again, promising himself and his body that he would go easy tonight and try to get a good night’s sleep. 

He opened the door quietly and padded back into the living room. Miraculously, the girl was out cold, though now she was facing the room again. Her face was soft with sleep, her features fine boned and pretty he thought. He looked around the room, spotting his shoes near the front door. He found his phone stuck in the toe of his right shoe and he checked it while pulling them on. He had a message from Meg, “Clarence don’t forget to come get your stuff before you leave. My apartment is right across the hall.” He scrolled down and saw several messages from his own number: “Meg as a demon blonde pixie” “find cheeseburger eat cheeseburger be happy” “Sansa is slytherin” “Hellhounds are like Cerberus but invisible.” He always had so many ideas when he was drunk but unlike the ideas he got when he was high, the drunk ones were mostly useless. He rolled his eyes and deleted the first three. 

The front door creaked when he opened it and he slipped outside without checking on the girl again. He pulled it tightly shut and looked around. He recognized the hallway and like Meg had texted, the apartment door across the hall was definitely Meg’s. He checked his phone again and saw that it was close to noon. Good, he thought as he reached up and knocked on the door. His own grouchiness in the morning was something to behold but Meg was even worse. He did not want to be the one responsible for waking her up. 

He heard footsteps and then the door came open. Meg’s smirk was a mile wide. “Morning Clarence.” She said, louder than she needed to in his opinion. He groaned. 

“Hello Meg.” 

“Glad to see you made it out of Ruby’s place alive.” Meg turned from the door and made her way to the couch, sitting down and picking up a mug of something off the coffee table. 

Cas followed, slumping down on the opposite end. “Yeah. Mostly alive anyway. What happened?” 

“I wanted a little alone time, move some furniture around, you know? “ She raised a well-manicured eyebrow in his direction and shrugged, “Ruby offered up her futon. You were drunk and didn’t seem to care much either way so I let her take you.”

“Geez Meg, thanks.”

“Aw come on now Clarence, you know I wouldn’t send you off with someone if I thought they’d actually hurt you. I was fairly certain she would leave you with your virtue intact.”

“Meg.” He grumbled. She grinned again. He let his head fall back onto the sofa. His headache was still ebbing at the back of his skull but it did feel slightly duller now. The queasy feeling in his stomach hadn’t dissipated.  
“You were ok though, right?” Meg said, her voice softening. 

For all the bravado, snark, and general bitchiness, he knew Meg did actual care about him. They met in a bar five years ago when Meg got drunk and punched a bouncer. Castiel had gotten between the two and pretended to be her boyfriend to get her out of the situation. He’d ended the night with a black eye and a new best friend. He sat up again, looking around the room for his bag. He found it lying on the chair next to the couch and reached over to retrieve it. He almost slipped off the cushion in the process but he managed to get the strap in hand and drag it over. 

“Yes, Meg. My virtue, as you call it, is unharmed.” He rolled his eyes. “I woke up with a nasty hangover and a strange girl pressed up against me but all my clothes were on and I didn’t lose any of my stuff,” He motioned to his backpack as he continued to look through it, “so I am counting it as a win.” He pushed his clothes aside, telling himself again that he needed to find somewhere to wash them soon, and fished out a small pouch. The pouch was sky blue with tiny bumblebees printed on it. It was probably originally intended to hold a child’s school supplies or something. Cas smiled, tracing a finger over one of the bees. 

“She slept on the futon with you? Well, that girl is nothing if not persistent. I told her she was definitely not your type; I guess she thought she could convince you otherwise.”

He chuckled. “I am guessing she was disappointed.” He dropped his bag to the floor and pulled the zipper on the pouch open. He felt around inside before pulling out a small plastic baggie. 

“You want?” he said, motioning towards Meg with the bag. She looked at it a moment before nodding. 

“Sure, Clarence. But just one bowl, I have shit to do today.” She said as she leaned forward and opened the small drawer in the coffee table. She pulled out a glass pipe and passed it over to him. 

“This is pretty.” He said, turning it over in his hands. It was clear with large black ribbons and smaller gold swirls in the glass that reminded him of stars. He lost himself for a moment thinking about the stars and imagining wings that looked like they contained galaxies. He fumbled with the pipe and baggie, handing them both over to Meg as he felt around in his bag for his notebook. She rolled her eyes at him but he didn’t notice it. He started scribbling down his ideas – _giant black wings covered in tiny pinpricks of light. Maybe they contain actual galaxies? Celestial wavelength, made of light and energy._ He lost himself in his notes and only looked up when Meg tapped him on the shoulder. 

“Here” she said pressing the pipe and lighter into his hand. He nodded absently, still trying to follow the train of thought he was on. He flicked the lighter and inhaled deeply with practiced ease. The heavy sweet smoke warmed his chest. He practically shoved the pipe back into Meg’s hands as another idea hit him full force. He picked up his pen and tried to write it all down before it evaporated like the haze in Meg’s living room. After two more hits he shook his head when Meg tried to pass the pipe back to him. He finished off his page of notes with a small sketch of the angelic being he had been trying to describe and looked up. 

He felt good, happy and calm. The queasy feeling in his stomach was gone and he felt loose and relaxed. His mind was fuzzy at the edges but he liked it that way. He felt like the ideas flowed better when there wasn’t anything for them to get hung up on.

“Man, I needed that.” he said, glancing over. Meg was leaned back against the arm of the couch; a blonde girl with wide set eyes was sitting in the V of her legs, back to chest. He wondered where she had come from and exactly how long he had been making notes. The girl was running her fingertips over Meg’s palm and smiling softly. Meg’s eyes were closed but she was humming a song Cas couldn’t place, so he knew she wasn’t asleep. “Thanks, Meg.” He said, trying to get her attention. Her eyes slid open and she looked disoriented for a moment before she focused on his face. 

“Anytime Clarence. Though, I should be mad at you. I am so not going to get anything done today.” She said. She took her hand back from the blonde girl and started running it through the girl’s hair, watching the golden strands curl across her knuckles. Cas watched too, mesmerized by the rhythmic motion. 

“So you’re still writing?” she said a few minutes later. He looked up, realizing he had still been staring at the girl’s hair and Meg’s hand. The girl’s eyes were closed now, her mouth slightly open. Cas thought she might be asleep. 

“Yeah. Still writing. Mostly short stories at the moment but my publisher is pushing me to do a sequel.” He said, leaving off “ _And I have no fucking clue what to write._ ” He had been toying with the story, coming at it from different angles, for months now but still hadn’t gotten anywhere. Honestly, he had never expected his book to do well, so he never considered being asked to write a sequel. But then the book had made a small splash, even winding up on the New York Times bestsellers list - albeit all the way at the bottom and only for a week, and the publisher had come to him flashing zeros and asking when the sequel would be ready. He had been smart enough not to sign a contract, knowing that he didn’t work well with deadlines, but he still felt an implied one looming. 

“That’s great.” Meg said, her large brown eyes focused on him, “I’m proud of you, you know?” 

“Yeah, Yeah, I know.” He said, rolling his eyes even as he felt his cheeks flush. 

“Baby, you are too easy.” Meg said with a snort. She threw him a wink.

He shook his head. After a few more minutes of comfortable silence he started putting his stuff back in his bag. “I think I’m gonna head out.” 

Meg nodded. “Take care of yourself. Let me know if you need to use my couch, ok?” 

He nodded as he zipped his bag and shrugged it onto his shoulders. “I always do.” He said.


	2. Chapter 2

He pushed open the door to the café, smiling at the familiar jingle of the string of bells tied to the handle. He took a deep breath, savoring the coffee and baked goods smell of the place as he walked through it. A few things had changed since he had been here last, almost six months ago. They had added bar stools to the coffee bar so patrons could sit and chat with the baristas. The baristas probably hated it, Cas knew some of them and felt certain of this point, but he could see the charm from the patrons perspective. There was new art on the walls, giving the whole room a lighter feeling, and the collection of plants in the front window also helped with the brightness of the space. He walked through the room with purpose but without urgency, headed for a door at the back, tucked between the restrooms and a storage closet.   
He knocked twice and as expected, received a, “Come in, whoever you are!” 

The office was small and tastefully decorated. A desk and a couch took up most of the space along with a file cabinet and small shelf for the printer and other gadgetry. 

“Cassie, Darling!” a familiar accented voice called out as soon as the door opened. Cas smiled and nodded as the man stood up from behind the desk. Slightly older than Cas, with stylishly cut blonde hair, a low cut v neck shirt, and a bawdy sense of humor, the man was no doubt Cas’ second favorite family member. 

“Balthazar. How are you? The place looks good, I like the changes.” 

Cas sank down into the couch, surprised again by how comfortable it was, with its modern lines and square cushions he never expected as much. Balthazar came around the desk to take the cushion next to him lounging immediately with his arms across the back and one foot propped on his knee. 

“Same as always, Cousin, same as always. When did you get back? Gabriel hasn’t mentioned you being home.” 

“Today. Well, last night but I stayed with Meg. I haven’t talked to Gabe yet.” 

“Ah yes, Meg. How is the little she devil?” Balthazar raised an eyebrow suggestively, “Do you think she’ll ever succumb to my charms?”

“God, I hope not.” Cas said in all seriousness. Balthazar might be his favorite cousin and Meg his best friend but he knew them both well enough to say that any relationship between the two of them would be disastrous, apocalyptic even. He studied that thought for a minute and pulled his notebook out of his bag. He scribbled down the idea, not sure where it would lead. 

“Still writing then? Good for you.”

“Trying to anyway. They want me to write a sequel but I don’t have a clear idea yet. I have a few random pieces but nothing solid.” 

“Well I’m sure it will come to you. Do you have enough inspiration?” Balthazar put special emphasis on the last word. Cas laughed. Ever since he had told Balthazar that he wrote better high, the man was always checking up on him. Balthazar’s dealer was good and the stuff he gave Castiel was always way better than anything Cas found through his own connections. 

“I can always use more.” He said. 

Balthazar laughed, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Spoken like a true artist. Let me see what I have.” 

**\-----------------------------------------------------**

An hour later and Cas was perched on one of the stools staring down into a piece of apple pie. He took a bite and groaned as the flavors of apple, cinnamon, and buttery crust exploded on his tongue. It was possibly the best pie he had ever eaten. Using his fork he separated out a chunk of apple and popped it into his mouth. The fruit was still a little crunchy and covered in the sweet filling. He groaned again. 

“I’ll have what he’s having,” a deep voice said from his right, followed by a soft chuckle. 

Cas turned his head, a smile already on his face, and found a man sitting on the stool next to him. The guy was smiling too, with straight white teeth and crinkles around his eyes. Cas squinted as he stared at the man, focusing first on his freckles, then on the light stubble covering his very square chin, and then on the clear green of his irises. The man was watching him with interest, his eyebrow raised. 

“Are you stoned?” the guy said. 

Cas tilted his head a little to the side, thinking about his answer. “Generally, yeah.” 

The guy barked a laugh. “Well how’s that for honesty.” He flashed Cas another brilliant smile, “Name’s Dean.” He held out his hand. 

“Cas.” Cas studied the man’s hand before clasping it with his own. His palm was rough, calloused, and there were faint white scars on his knuckles. 

“Nice to meet you Cas. How’s the pie?” 

Cas looked back at his plate and felt another grin spread across his face. “The pie is…” he trailed off. _Delicious, interesting, enchanting, fantastic, wonderful._ Too many words rolled through his brain but he couldn’t seem to catch one. He laughed and shook his head, picking up his fork again. He took another bite before turning back to the man. “This makes me very happy,” he said as he chewed. 

Dean laughed again. It was a good laugh, throaty and full. Cas wanted to write it down. He fumbled in his bag and pulled out his notebook, scribbling on a random page. 

“Cas, man, you were not wrong about this pie.” 

He looked up. Dean had his own slice of pie in front of him and was chewing with his mouth open slightly. He gestured at Cas with the apple laden fork. “I’m glad I listened to you.” 

Cas nodded, smiling again before turning back to his own plate. They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes, each making happy little noises around their forkfuls of pie. When Cas finished he turned to a new page in his notebook and started writing. 

“What do you think of nurse role-play and light domination?” he said, turning to Dean. 

Dean’s head jerked up; his eyebrows pinched together, “What?”

Cas tilted his head, he thought he had been clear. “I asked what you think of nurse-role play and light domination? It’s for a story I’m writing.” He said, gesturing to his notebook. 

Dean’s shoulders slumped a little. “Oh.” He said. He took a sip of his coffee, looking across at the shiny silver machines on the opposite counter. “I guess I’d be into it.” 

Cas nodded and turned back to his notebook. 

_She had fiery red hair and a personality to match. The short white dress she was wearing just barely covered her ass and the satin lines of her garters drew the eye down her thighs. He struggled against the restraints holding his wrists and ankles to the table, squinting as the bright light above him suddenly turned on. He was trying to keep her in sight, trying to see what she had on the metal tray in her hands._

_“Take a deep breath for me. This won’t hurt – much.” She said with a sly grin and a wink._

“So you got high and came to a coffee place to eat pie and write porn?” Dean said.

Cas looked up. 

“Not exactly.” Balthazar’s voice chimed in. Cas turned, noticing the man on the other side of the counter for the first time. “I’m Balthazar Novak and you-“ he eyed Dean with a salacious grin, “are gorgeous.” 

Dean laughed again. “Dean Winchester.” 

“Well Dean Winchester, I’m going to let you in on a little secret.” He leaned across the counter, closing the gap between them. Castiel watched out of the corner of his eye, curious what Balthazar would do next. He spoke in a low, conspiratorial voice. “Cassie here is my cousin, this is my café, and we have an agreement. He comes in for pie and coffee, among other things,” He raised his eyebrows suggestively. Cas cringed a little. Balthazar could be a bit much when he really got going. “And in exchange he writes me dirty little stories. Both because it amuses me and because he’s good at it.” 

Balthazar resumed his place behind the counter, leaning back against it with practiced nonchalance. Dean stared for a moment, his face blank. Cas watched, fascinated by the exchange. Everything Balthazar had said was true, of course, but he wasn’t sure how it would go over. 

Dean’s face cracked into a smile and he threw his head back and laughed. “Man, honesty must run in the family. Geez. You guys are a riot.” He turned his face to Cas again, “So are you a writer or do you just do this for your pervy cousin over there?” He said, using his thumb to gesture to Balthazar. 

“I’m a writer. A collector of stories, I -” He stopped, a collector of stories, he picked up his notebook and turned back a few pages. _An angel, the word of god/scribe of god who is in love with stories. He collects stories. Comes down to earth to live and die over and over to have stories to tell. Or makes other angels live and die as human so they can tell him their stories? Reads every word ever written, reads and speaks all languages. Detached from humanity. Sees humanity through the filter of media._

He stared at the page for a moment but nothing else came to him. He looked back up. 

“He’s a regular tramp, a vagabond, our little Castiel. He travels all over, just following people and writing down everything and anything. Two months ago I get a postcard in the mail from somewhere in Louisiana that says he’s going to be on a crab boat for a few weeks with a guy named Barney.” Balthazar chuckled. Dean sipped his coffee and shook his head. 

“Benny. His name was Benny.” Cas corrected. 

They both looked over at him. “I met him in Oklahoma. I was there with this kid named Kevin.” The kids face flashed across his mind. He had been friendly, if a little quiet and high strung. “Anyway, Benny said I could ride with him to the coast and go fishing. I’d never been on a boat before, so I went.” He looked back and forth between their rapt faces, feeling the heavy weight of their stares on his skin. He shivered a little under the attention. “He was a nice guy. Fishing sucked though. Those blue crab are mean.” He made a pinching motion with his hand. Balthazar threw his head back and laughed. Dean just smirked over the edge of his coffee mug.   
One of the baristas approached Balthazar and he waved as he headed in the opposite direction.   
Cas went back to his notebook. 

**\-----------------------------------------------------**

Twenty minutes later he tore the story out carefully and looked around for his cousin. 

“He went in his office, I think.” Dean said. 

Cas jumped a little at the voice, surprised the man was still sitting next to him. He was holding his empty coffee mug in his hands and staring into space. 

“Thank you.” Cas said, debating going to find Balthazar. Deciding against it, he turned back to Dean. Cas watched him for a moment, taking in the slump of his shoulders and the weariness in his face. “So how long are you in town?” 

Dean huffed a small laugh, “Is it that obvious that I’m not from around here?” His smile was small and curious.   
“Probably not to most people.” Cas said. He motioned to the barista, he was pretty sure her name was Anna, and she came over to refill both of their cups. 

“Thanks sweetheart.” Dean said, flashing her a smile as well. The man had manners, which was nice.

“Balthazar told you I spend a lot of time traveling around. I guess it takes one to know one?” He said with a shrug, “Or something cliché like that.” 

Dean nodded, sipping his cup. He hissed when the hot liquid hit his tongue and set the cup down. Cas followed suit.

“I just got in this morning. I came to surprise my brother but he wasn’t as happy to see me as I hoped.” He looked down into the mug, his fingers tapping at the handle. Cas could see tension in the other man’s shoulders, evidence that he was thinking about whatever happened this morning. 

Cas nodded. “I know how brothers are sometimes. I have six siblings and most of them are never happy to see me”  
Dean looked over at him. “That sucks, Cas.” The silence stretched between them for a few moments. They each took small sips of their coffee, which was still too hot. 

“I was planning on staying the weekend, maybe a little longer, but I’m not sure now. We’re supposed to meet up later; hopefully we can straighten it out then.” 

Cas nodded again. “I hope so too, Dean.” 

“So do you really just travel around with people and write?” Dean didn’t look scared or excited by the idea, like most people when Cas talked to them about his life. He almost looked sad. 

“Yeah, for the last couple of years anyway. I kind of just go where life takes me.” That was putting it simply. In reality, he hated being tied down to any one place. He hated expectations and routine. He liked writing because it gave him the freedom to be anywhere or anyone in the blink of an eye. 

“Doesn’t that get lonely?” Dean said. His voice was quiet and he looked away when he said it, staring back into the dark liquid in front of him. 

“Sometimes, yeah. That’s usually when I head back here. This is where my family is and where my friends are. I come back and get recharged so that I can go off again when the opportunity presents itself.” 

Dean looked at him then and Cas was startled by the brightness of his eyes. 

“Opportunity, eh?” Dean smirked, “Tell me about some of these opportunities you’ve had.” 

Cas smiled at him. “Well after Benny I met this lady named Abaddon, or Abby for short. She drove a red convertible and wore a scarf in her hair like those actresses in the fifties.” Dean nodded, his full attention on Cas. “She picked me up outside a diner just past the Texas border. We had a conversation over burgers and milkshakes that was pretty interesting. She was headed to Arizona for her sister’s wedding and offered me a ride.” 

“Just like that?”

“Well, on one condition.” 

Dean quirked an eyebrow. 

“She wanted me to be her date for the wedding.” 

Dean let out a loud laugh. “You rode in a car with her for that long and had to go to a stranger’s wedding? Geez. You must have the patience of a saint.”

“Well that and I had a selection of edibles.” He shrugged. 

Dean grinned, shaking his head again. “So I guess that answers the gas, grass, or ass question.”

Cas chuckled. “I usually get by on the first two.” 

“Never the third?” Dean said with a wink. “Handsome guy like you? I’d think it would be easy to use it to your advantage.” 

Cas nodded. “So I’ve been told but I’m asexual, so it doesn’t really appeal to me.” 

Dean rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “I’m sorry man, I didn’t mean to-“

“No, you’re fine Dean. You didn’t offend me or anything.”

Cas could see a tinge of pink on Dean’s cheeks and the tips of his ears. After a few seconds of almost awkward silence, Dean looked up. 

“Wait, you’re ace but you write porn for that guy?” he said, motioning vaguely behind him. 

Cas laughed. “Yeah, well I also write about angels and demons and I have little to no experience with them either, so-“ he shrugged again, “Just cause I haven’t done it, doesn’t mean I can’t write about it.”

Dean was watching him. His green eyes fixed intently on his face. Then he nodded, to himself it seemed, and went back to his coffee mug. 

“Ok. Who’s the strangest person you’ve met in your travels?”

Cas thought about that for a moment. He sipped his coffee, savoring the bitter liquid as it crossed his tongue. “Maybe this guy Crowley? He picked me up somewhere in Ohio, I’m not exactly sure where. I had been walking for a while and was super tired or I might not have gotten in the car with him, honestly. He drove this big black luxury car and he had on an all black suit. He wasn’t intimidating though, not really anyway, he was in his forties, balding, soft around the middle that sort of thing plus he had an accent. He stayed on his cell most of the drive, ordering people around and making deals.” He stopped to take another sip, “He kind of ignored me the whole six hours we were in the car together, which was weird enough, but when I got out of the car he gave me his business card. It said Crowley – King of Hell and had a phone number. That’s all, the whole card. He sort of smirked at me when he handed it to me, so it might have been a joke, but the guy really didn’t seem like the joke business card type.” 

Dean’s face lit up, his eyebrows raised, “No shit? That is weird. Did you ever call the number?”

Cas shook his head, “Sadly, No. I totally should have though.” 

“Missed opportunities.”

They sat looking at one another, silently appraising. 

“So where are you from Dean?” 

“Originally I’m from Kansas but now I live in South Dakota.” 

“Wow. You came all the way from South Dakota as a surprise? You must really love your brother. How long is the flight?” 

“Yeah, well. I do love him, I practically raised the kid, and I missed him.” He rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, a pink tinge dusting his cheeks once more, “Not sure about the flight, I drove. I kinda hate flying.” 

Cas nodded. ”Well then I’m even more impressed.” He tipped his mug in Dean’s direction, “And I know what you mean about flying; a big metal tube hurtling through the air just doesn’t seem safe.”

“Exactly!” Dean said, another grin lighting up his face. He clinked the edge of his mug on Cas’. 

They traded traveling stories until their cups ran dry and Cas could feel his stomach growling. He started daydreaming about his favorite burger place and the freshly rolled joints tucked away in his bag. He collected his notebook, scribbling his number down on a sheet of paper and handing it over to Dean. 

“I’m gonna head out but if you wanna meet up again, shoot me a text. It’s been nice talking to you Dean. I hope you can work it out with your brother.” He stuck out his hand and Dean shook it. 

“Yeah Cas, nice meeting you too. Have a good one.”


	3. Chapter 3

Cas was sitting with his back against a tree, the rough bark poking him through his t-shirt. He could just make out the brightly colored shapes of children on the playground on the other side of the park. Their screams and laughter were barely audible to him. He shook a joint out of the hard pack he kept them in and lit it, sucking in a deep breath and letting the smoke fill him up. He smiled softly as he exhaled, tipping his head back to watch the tree canopy above him. It swayed in the breeze, the sun filtering down on him in patches. He focused on the feeling for a moment, the warm and cool spots dotting his arms and face. He pulled in another drag and dug into the take out bag at his feet. 

He moaned happily around his double bacon cheeseburger as grease dripped down the back of his hand. The sharpness of mustard and the crunch of onions were heavenly. 

When he finished his food he stretched out, propping himself up on his backpack, and lit his joint again. He laid his notebook on his stomach, tapping his pen against the cover softly. As he breathed in deeply he looked up at the sky. Small clouds floated across, they were tinged gray and looked nothing like the fluffy white clouds featured in cartoons or drawn by children. He watched them move, dissipate really. His thoughts drifted back to Dean. Dean, who had feminine lips and long eyelashes offset by a deep voice and somewhat macho charm. Dean had told him about a childhood spent in the backseat of his dad’s car, now his car, traveling across the country and back again. The stories explained the sad look he had given when they first started talking about Cas’ travels. Cas wondered idly what it would have been like to spend his childhood traveling. Would it have made him more or less restless than he already was? 

He finished his joint, crushing the last of it out against the hard dirt before putting it in with the rest of his trash. He settled down further, letting his body relax. A red kite flitted through the sky, swaying and dipping, darting towards the earth before slowly climbing back up. He focused on it. It moved like a bird chasing bugs or a fish swimming. He imagined it was a fish for a moment, tied to a string, its fins fluttering in the air, and he laughed at the thought. He felt full and drowsy, his stomach pushing against the waistband of his jeans and his eyes drooping half closed. He laughed again thinking about the sky fish and its bug eyes looking down on him laid out in the dirt. What would it be like to look down on the earth and be able to follow one person’s life from above? Was that what it was like for the angels? Did they watch from heaven, focusing on their assigned charges but always removed, at a distance? He felt the story begin to take shape, a form emerging from darkness. 

He forced his eyes open, his hands searching out his notebook. When he found it he propped it on his chest and scribbled down his thoughts. 

_Follow one angel as it watches its charges. Maybe it watches mankind from the beginning, becoming more and more interested. When the war starts the being comes to earth, takes a vessel. But why? To help the humans in general? What’s in it for him?_

When finished, he sighed deeply, a small smile crossing his lips. He was onto something this time. He could feel it. He let his eyes drift shut, his notebook dropping to his chest. 

If this panned out he would have to thank Balthazar for the extra inspiration. He chuckled to himself as he slipped off into sleep. 

**\-----------------------------------------------------**

When he woke up he rubbed at his eyes and yawned. His mouth felt dry but the rest of him was still loose and relaxed. He stretched, arching his back and groaning. After a few minutes, he sat up and pulled a bottle of water out of his bag. As he drank he read through his notebook.

It was definitely a start. 

He collected all of his stuff and began walking back into downtown. He turned his story idea over and over in his mind hoping it would open up. He liked the idea of narrowing the scope of this novel down. His first book centered on an angelic civil war and had several characters, factions, and internal conflicts to keep up with. He had enjoyed writing it at the time; it had been a challenge requiring him to keep copious notes and meticulous outlines so that each strand of the story would stay straight and he wouldn’t forget anything. Now though, he felt like a simpler story would be better. The idea of crafting an individual, flushing them out and getting to really sink into them was exciting. 

He stopped, reflexively reaching for his notebook. Other people on the sidewalk grumbled as they bumped into him, moving around his still form. 

_Flushing a character out fully. What if he has to learn how to be human? The being has never taken a vessel before, has only watched from outside. What would humanity look like from outside? How would you react the first time? Not like a child because his knowledge base would be larger than that. He would understand the basics but not the nuances. Not the cultural quirks. Manners, how to have a conversation, personal space, pop culture._

He looked up when someone bumped into his shoulder, his pen skittering across the page and leaving a black trail in its wake. “Sorry” he said reflexively. 

He kept walking, not bothering to put the notebook back in his bag. 

He didn’t have a destination in mind but soon found himself crossing familiar streets. His eyes roamed across faded storefronts, signs and awnings bleached by the sun. He turned the corner and ducked into the shaded alcove in front of a chipped and scarred red door. The front window was painted with the words “New & Used Books” in gold and black. When he opened the door he was hit with the scent of paper and dust and he smiled. 

A blonde woman with a bright smile greeted him as he came through the door. He gave her a small wave, glancing around the room. It looked more organized than the last time he had been here. The books seemed to have been separated by category and labeled with small handmade signs. He wasn’t sure he liked it. Before, it had been a riot of books; the overstuffed shelves spilling them into piles lining the aisles and crowding in on each other. In some places the piles had reached the ceiling. Now the aisles were clear, and the only piles of books he saw were on small display tables by the front window. 

He approached the woman behind the counter. “I haven’t been here in a while.” He said, motioning around the room, “the place looks so different.” She smiled even brighter than before. 

“You probably saw it when it was a wreck, books all over the place.” she said, “I organized everything when I first got here. I even made the signs myself. Now you can actually find the book you are looking for without having to hunt everywhere.” 

Cas nodded. “So does that mean the place is under new management?” he said. He felt a pang of disappointment at the thought. 

She laughed. “No. Well, kind of? My husband Chuck is still the owner but I guess I sort of took up the reigns when we got married. I’ve always been a go-getter.” 

As if hearing his name, the man appeared from between the shelves, slowly approaching the counter while flipping through the pages of a book. He was clean shaven, for the first time ever in Cas’ memory, and had on a white button up shirt and jeans. Cas guessed that the woman behind the counter had done a job cleaning him up too. 

“Hey Becks, is this the one you were talking about?” he said. When he looked up he startled a little before breaking into a small smile. “Mr. Novak! It’s nice to see you. It’s been a while.” 

Cas shook his head. “Come on Chuck. We’ve known each other way too long for you to call me that.” 

The woman next to him let out a little squeal. When Cas glanced back at her she was making a frantic hand gesture in Chucks direction. 

“Oh, right. Uh Cas, “the name sounded awkward, like Chuck had a hard time getting it off his tongue, “this is my wife Becky. Becks, this is Castiel Novak. Yes, that Castiel Novak. Please, don’t overwhelm him.” He sent a pleading look in her direction. 

Cas raised an eyebrow at him but stuck his hand out towards her anyway. 

“Hello Becky, it’s nice to meet you.” 

“Oh my gosh! It’s so nice to meet you too, Cas! I love your book. It was so dark and gritty while still being positive, you know?” 

Cas didn’t know but he nodded anyway. 

“I really liked the main characters, Michael and Raphael. Oh and of course Lucifer! I just wish there had been more of a love story component.” 

She looked at him expectantly. “Yes, well” he started, but she broke in. 

“Not that I’m telling you what to write or anything. I just really enjoy stories with a romantic element. Star crossed lovers or soulmates.” She looked over at Chuck smiling, “Are you still writing? Oh! Is there going to be a sequel?”

He paused a moment, waiting for her to go on. Surprisingly, she didn’t. 

“Well, yes I’m still writing and yes I’ve been asked to do a sequel.” She opened her mouth to speak but he pressed on, “I don’t have a concrete idea yet though, so I can’t give you any hints.” Her mouth turned down into a pout. 

He glanced over at Chuck, who was shaking his head, a flush of embarrassment on his cheeks. Momentarily, Cas wondered how such a shy, anxiety prone man had found an energetic, very outgoing woman to be his wife. He shook off the thought. 

“Actually Chuck, now that I’m here, I was wondering-“ 

Chuck looked confused for a moment but then he nodded. “Oh, right. Yeah Cas. It’s still back there, in the corner, right where you left it.” He looked over at Becky, “Becks wanted to put a sign up but I wouldn’t let her. Hopefully that’s ok.” 

Cas let out a small laugh. “You act like it’s mine. Just because I spent a lot of time back there does not make it mine. Do whatever you want.” He said, smiling at them both. “Though I am happy to hear that you didn’t get rid of it. If you ever decide to, let me know first, yeah?” 

“Yes, of course!” Becky said. Cas gave them both his thanks before excusing himself.

He walked between orderly shelving units, trailing his fingers along the spines and mourning the clutter of the past, until he found himself in the back of the store. There were mismatched chairs clumped in twos and threes around small tables each with its own reading lamp. He smiled when he saw the ratty green armchair, high backed and uncomfortable looking with curved wooden legs tucked back into a corner. He ran his hand along the scalloped top of the thing, feeling the roughness of the fabric as it ticked along his fingertips. Most of his first book had been written in this chair and it had almost a mythological presence in his mind. Rationally, he knew that his book had had nothing to do with the chair but part of him still felt tied to it. He studied it, remembering the long hours and feeling nostalgic for that time and place. He sat down, his bag at his feet, and eased himself back between the wings of the chair. 

He read over his notebook again. What if Becky was right and he needed to add a love story? Besides the stories he wrote for Balthazar, he usually shied away from the subject. He was more comfortable exploring familial relationships and the love between friends. His publisher had asked him about it once but never brought it back up. Gabe had mentioned it to him before too, after reading his first book. His comment had been that the book needed more sex, which was a very Gabriel thing to say and at the time, he had paid no attention to the statement. Now he wondered. 

_The being is focused on one charge because that charge is special. He sees something in him that sets him apart. Starts as mentorship or friendship. Could it grow into love? Or sex for Gabe? How does it factor into the war? Is the charge important to the war or important to heaven?_

Maybe it was psychosomatic or maybe the chair really was magic, but either way Cas wrote until Chuck came back to reluctantly tell him the store was closing. Becky was fast on his heels, calling out that she would stay if he needed more time. He thanked them both, shutting his notebook and sliding it back into his bag, but declined Becky’s offer. 

When he left the store, the sun was setting in the distance. He took a few moments to admire the orange streaked sky before heading in the direction of his brother’s apartment.


	4. Chapter 4

He had his headphones in and his phone was playing through his eclectic song list when the text alert chimed. The harsh beep cut through his music and jolted him out of his trance. He looked around and saw that he was only a few streets away from his destination, muscle memory and a flawless sense of direction having led him this way without much conscious thought. He retrieved his phone from his pocket. 

**Unknown Number:** So it turns out my brother has a date tonight. He told me he probably wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. I mean, I’m happy for him but TMI. Anyway, was hoping you’d be free to meet up. Maybe grab some food or a drink? 

Cas stared at the phone for a moment. 

**Sent:** Is this Dean? 

**Unknown Number:** Oh shit, yeah. Sorry man. Yeah, it’s Dean Winchester from the coffee place. Wow way to come off like a creeper, huh? 

He smiled at that and added the number to his phone. 

**Sent:** Ha yes. Something like that. 

**Sent:** I’m free. And since you aren’t from around here I am going to guess that you don’t have a place in mind. Can I suggest the Lemon street draft house? They have a large selection of beers and pretty decent food. 

**Dean W:** Sounds great. 

They agreed to meet up in an hour but Cas headed towards the bar anyway. It was only two streets over from his brother’s place, which was why he’d suggested it, so he was already close. He knew if he went up to Gabriel’s to drop off his bag he would end up being late. No matter how much Gabriel complained about his lifestyle and his, frequently unannounced, visits, he still talked his ear off every time he showed up. 

**\-----------------------------------------------------**

The bar was all dark wood and low lighting, with classic rock or sometimes older country music playing from a juke box in the corner. Like every time he came in here, Cas noted sadly that the juke box wasn’t an original or even a replica. It was new and shiny with neon lights and a touchscreen on the front that made it stand out in the room. He looked past it though and settled into a booth to the left of the bar. He could see the door from here and he watched as people came and went. It was still fairly early, so the bar wasn’t very crowded yet. The majority of the patrons were older students or recent graduates, everyone in their late twenties or early thirties. He liked coming here, not only because it was close to Gabriel’s apartment (having somewhere to crash within walking distance was a necessity some nights) but also because it wasn’t filled with young kids or loud pop music. It was the kind of place where you could actually meet a stranger and just have a conversation for a while. 

Cas was still musing to himself about places like this one and making his way through his first beer when Dean walked in. He watched as Dean confidently crossed the space, looking as if he had been there a hundred times before. He went to the bar and ordered himself a drink. When the bartender passed it to him, he sent the guy a flirtatious wink before glancing around the room. Cas waved when Dean’s eyes fell in his direction and Dean smiled. 

He clamored into the other side of the booth, laying his keys, wallet, and phone on the tabletop before getting comfortable. He threw an arm across the back of the seat and sipped at his beer. 

“Nice place, Cas. I’ll have to bring Sam here sometime. He’s taken me to a few bars around campus but this is a little more my style.”

Cas nodded. “Mine too. How are things with your brother? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“Better. He was definitely surprised this morning and I guess it kind of stressed him out, so he was a jerk. We talked though and now he’s happy I’m here. Well, mostly happy.” 

Cas nodded again as he finished off his beer. “I’m glad to hear it. It would be a shame for you to have come all the way out here just to turn right back around.”

“Nah. At least the drive was nice. It’s been a while since my last road trip, I didn’t realize how much I’d missed it.” Dean tapped his fingers on the edge of his glass; a motion Cas remembered noticing this morning. Feeling curious, he was about to ask if there was more to Deans statement but the appearance of a waitress stopped him. The girl was young, with a high blonde ponytail and a plaid shirt, much like Dean’s. 

Dean apologized for not having looked at the menu yet and proceeded to do just that. Cas ordered another beer and a shot of whiskey for each of them (an action that caused a raised eyebrow from Dean, but no comment). When he finished, Dean ordered a cheese burger with onion rings and another beer. The waitress smiled at them both before leaving the table. 

“You’re not gonna eat?” Dean said, sipping his beer again. 

“Not right now. I had a big lunch. Plus, I’m planning on staying at my brothers tonight and his fridge is always filled with amazing leftovers. He’s an excellent cook. I keep telling him he should open a restaurant or a bakery but he just brushes me off.” Cas shrugged. 

The waitress returned with their drinks. Dean raised his shot glass, “To our brothers.” Cas nodded, his lips quirking up at the sides. They tapped the table and tossed them back. “Thanks for that.” Dean said. He drained the rest of his first beer and stacked all of the empty glasses on the tables edge. 

“So what do you do Dean?” 

“I’m a mechanic. I run a shop and salvage yard in Sioux Falls. It used to be my uncles but he let me take over when he retired. He still lives on the property though. Can’t seem to get rid of the old man.” He laughed and the smile on his face was fond. 

Cas smiled too. “That must be interesting. I’ve always been fascinated by people who work with their hands. So tell me about your job. I know next to nothing about cars and I’ve never even seen a salvage yard outside of television.” 

Dean gave him another questioning look but launched into an explanation anyway. He told Cas about his most frequent customers, the cars he enjoyed working on and those he didn’t, and all about the salvage yard business. Somewhere in the middle the waitress dropped off his food but even that didn’t stop the conversation. Dean talked with his mouth full, gesturing to Cas with a half-eaten onion ring. 

“You can find some really cool stuff in the salvage yard if you know where to look. I haven’t managed to map out the whole place yet but Bobby, man; Bobby knows that place top to bottom. I can ask him for anything and if it’s out there, he can usually point me right to it.” 

Cas took another drink of his beer, feeling the pleasant warmth spreading through him. “It sounds like you’re both lucky to have found a job you’re so passionate about.”

Dean blushed again, ducking his head a little. “Something like that.” He crunched through his last two onion rings before speaking again. “So what about you? How’d you get into writing? Is it something you’re passionate about?” the last question was followed by a small smirk. 

“I guess it started in elementary school. My brothers say I was always making up stories and driving them nuts. When I got to high school I used it as an escape in some ways. I spent a lot of time alone scribbling away.” He looked off for a moment, remembering how restless he had felt back then- not much had changed. “Once I graduated, I went to college for a few semesters – at Stanford actually- but I dropped out. I felt like I could gain more from life experience than from sitting in a classroom. I actually started my book back then but I didn’t really finish it and polish it up until about two years ago. It was published, by some miracle, and now they want me to write a sequel.” 

“Wow Cas, that’s really awesome. Being a teenager sucks for everyone I think, I’m glad you had something to help pull you through.” He took a drink of his beer, looking slightly uncomfortable. “So what’s your book about?” 

Cas waved the waitress over and ordered two more shots. Dean raised an eyebrow at him again, “That bad, huh? You don’t have to tell me about it, you know?” 

Cas laughed. “No, not bad at all. It’s more for you than me. Sometimes I get a little,“ he searched for the best word, “excited when talking about it. If I ply you with liquor, I’m hoping you won’t get annoyed and leave.”

Dean laughed, shaking his head. “There’s that honesty again. Well Cas, you just listened to me drone on and on about old cars and annoying housewives for thirty minutes. Even if I wasn’t interested, which I am, I still feel like I owe you at least a little time to geek out.” 

They each picked up their shot glass. Dean clinked his against Cas’, smiling at him over the amber liquid. They tapped the edge of the table and tossed them back. 

“Ok liquid courage and fortitude: check! “ Dean said, again stacking the glasses on the edge of the table. “Tell me about your book.” 

Cas sat back, letting his shoulders slump against the cool wood of the seat. He felt the familiar flush on his cheeks that came from drinking, and the tingling in his fingertips. He took a deep breath and started. “Well, basically it’s about a civil war between factions of angels in heaven. Lucifer gets involved, even though he’s not present, he has enough supporters to make the situation worse-“

**\-----------------------------------------------------**

He’s not sure how they ended up outside exactly. He knew more shots, a few beers, and a basket of cheese sticks had been involved. They had talked about their brothers and traded embarrassing childhood stories. Cas felt if he ever met Dean’s brother Sam, he would probably blush remembering some of the things he had been told. They talked about music and movies, bonding over similar tastes but disagreeing over the show Dr. Sexy M.D.. Dean seemed to think it was the best thing on television at the moment and Cas couldn’t help but laugh at that.  


At some point Dean had looked over at him, bright eyed despite the alcohol, and grinned. 

“Hey Cas, you got any of that stuff you had earlier at the coffee place?”

Cas rolled his eyes. “Generally, yeah.” He said, deliberately mirroring his earlier self. Dean chuckled. 

“Well come on. Don’t hold out on me.” 

Now they were side by side in the backseat of Dean’s car, a close fit for two grown men, passing a joint back and forth. Dean had a coughed a little at his first inhale, but sent Cas a warning glare before he could laugh. He had tried to keep a straight face for Dean’s sake. Now he was loose limbed and rumpled looking, his whole body slumped down, knees on the back of the seat in front of him. Cas was leaned against the car door, his body turned inward so he could watch Dean. 

“Man, it’s been forever. I feel like such a lightweight.” Dean said, rubbing a hand over his face. Cas chuckled softly.  


“Well, yes you probably are but this stuff is pretty good too. Balthazar’s dealer is a lot better than mine.” 

Dean nodded and then let out an honest to god giggle. “How the hell did you make that deal with him anyway?”

Cas grinned letting the smoke trail lazily out of his mouth. “Well, we got high once and he dared me. I had only recently come out as ace and Balthazar was just trying to get a rise out of me. He likes to push people’s buttons. Anyway, he dared me to write him a sex scene and I accepted. He was pretty surprised I agreed at all but then he almost fell out of his chair when I proceeded to read it to him – very dramatically, I might add.” 

Dean laughed, his head falling back onto the headrest. Cas decided it was one of the best laughs he had ever heard. “Man, I bet that was something to see. You and him, I mean.” 

Cas smiled, nodding as he took another hit. “Yeah, Gabriel heard us from the other room and came in thinking something really strange was going on. He was not disappointed.” 

They sat in silence for a while, Cas still listening to Dean’s laughter ringing in his ears, as they finished the joint. Cas stubbed it out in the ashtray up front before falling back into the seat. The inside of the car was hazy and he watched the smoke swirl and dissipate as he thought about his story again. 

“Have you ever been in love?” 

Dean turned his head slowly, his glassy eyes focusing on Cas’ face. “Yeah? Maybe. Why?” 

“Oh, uh. I was thinking about my book, well the sequel I’m supposed to be writing. Today, someone told me I should make it a love story or at least have a love story be part of it. I’ve never been in love though. Not that I know of anyway. I’ve had a few boyfriends and I really liked each of them but I don’t think it was love. Can you be in love and not know it?”

Dean was still watching him, now with a small furrow between his brows. “I think you can but probably not for long. I’m sure you’d catch on after a while or someone else would notice and tell you.” He shrugged. 

Cas nodded. 

Dean shut his eyes and turned his face away. When he spoke again, his voice was softer. 

“I thought I was in love with my first girlfriend Cassie. She was sweet, and funny, and could hold her own. We were together for almost two months before my dad moved us. I never saw her again. Years later I met a girl, Lisa, and the way I felt about her, man, it made how I felt about Cassie look like nothing. We lived together for a while and I even helped out with her son. He’s a great kid. By the end though I realized I was more in love with the idea of her, of having a family and stability, than I was with her as a person. You know? I broke it off and got the hell out of Kansas.” He lifted one hand and rubbed the back of his neck, “I’m not sure if either of those really counts. If it was real love, wouldn’t it have worked out?”

He looked over at Cas again, all earnest curiosity. 

“I think they count. You can love people to different degrees. I don’t think a relationship not working out means you didn’t love the person.”

Their eyes met and Cas realized for the first time that Dean’s had little flecks of gold in them. It was pretty, beautiful in fact, and he wondered if Dean even knew. 

After a moment, Dean cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck again before looking away. “Man, it’s getting late. What is it, after two?” 

Cas nodded absently, still thinking about what Dean had said. “Something like that.” 

They sat in silence for a while, neither making a move to leave.

“So you want to come to my brothers with me? You probably shouldn’t drive and his place is only two streets over.” 

Dean looked at him, his eyebrows pinched together. 

“Just a suggestion. I can sit with you a while if you want to wait and drive home.” 

“Nah. I was just thinking, will there be dessert?” He said, his somber expression melting away into a charming smile. 

Cas laughed. “Probably. Gabriel has quite the sweet tooth.”

Dean clapped his hands together, the sound ricocheting off the car interior. “Awesome. I hope its pie.” 

The climbed out of the backseat, securing the car as they left. Dean patted the hood and mumbled “I’ll be back for you in a few hours.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Shhh you gotta stay quiet. He gets extra pissed when I wake him up.” Cas whispered. Dean’s giggles had returned on the walk over and now he was babbling about something, playfully smacking Cas on the shoulder as he talked. 

“But seriously, cowboy boots, Cas? That’s hot!”

Cas nodded, putting a finger to his lips as he pushed the apartment door open. 

The soft yellow glow of a lamp filtered down the hall from the living room. Cas stopped in the doorway, listening intently. It was far too late for Gabriel to be awake normally but since, Cas hadn’t called ahead he couldn’t be sure. He waited, Dean pushing against his shoulder from behind. 

“What’s the holdup Cas?” he whispered, way too loudly.

Cas threw him a glare over his shoulder and put his finger to his lips again. He couldn’t hear anything so he shrugged and moved them both inside. 

They walked through the living room and into the kitchen. A pan with what looked like lamb sat on the stove, a dish of roasted vegetables beside it. Two empty wine glasses flanked a mostly empty bottle on the counter. Cas paused when he saw the abandoned food, debating if they should even be here. From what he knew of his brother, he didn’t date much but the scene in front of him made him think this might have been one of those rare occasions. 

“Dean, I’m not sure if we-“ he started to say but then Dean was squeezing past him. 

“Woah! Look at this food. You said he was a good cook, but damn.” 

“Keep your voice down!” Cas said, annoyance burning in his gut. He always forgot how frustrating it was to be the most sober person in the room (even if he did still have a pretty good buzz going, he knew Dean was doing far better). 

Dean mumbled something like an apology around a mouthful of food. He was holding a lamb chop by the bone, a conspicuous bite taken out of it. He rolled his eyes, getting a plate out of the cabinet and pushing it into Dean’s hands. 

“Don’t be an animal” he said. 

If he could get Dean to settle down in the living room and stay quiet until he sobered up, they could slip out and he would just leave Gabriel a note. Gabe would be mad at him for sure, but it would be better than surprising him and his date in the morning. Cas really hoped the date had gone well enough that the person would still be here in the morning. 

Nodding to himself at his plan, he steered Dean to the couch. 

“You gotta try this Cas” Dean said after sinking into the overstuffed cushions, still whispering too loudly for his liking. 

Cas nodded and tore a piece off of the chop. He briefly wondered why he hadn’t grabbed a fork before popping it into his mouth. He closed his eyes and savored the bite as he chewed. He was never surprised by Gabriel’s food, not anymore, because he had complete faith in his ability to cook but this really was exceptional. Even cold, the flavors were bright and well balanced. Right out of the oven, he bet the chops would melt right on your tongue.  


He watched as Dean took a comically large bite of the chop, using his fingers to hold it upright on the plate. The sight of Dean trying so hard to keep the chop on the plate while still eating it directly from the bone touched some part of him and he laughed. He slapped a hand over his mouth but the damage was done. As soon as the sound escaped him, Dean started giggling again and Cas had to shush him. 

“Cassie, that better be you.” He heard a familiar voice say. His shoulders slumped in defeat. 

He stood up.

“Hello Gabe.” He said, feeling ridiculous and intrusive. Gabe was standing in the hallway outside his bedroom, clad in only a pair of red boxers with little white hearts on them, his hands on his hips in annoyance. Cas felt a wave of fondness at the sight. 

“I was gonna stay the night but then I saw the food and wine and I thought you might have someone here. I was planning to leave when my friend was safe to drive home.”

Gabe arched an eyebrow. “Your friend?”

Dean knelt on the couch cushions, leaning over the back of the couch with the plate in his hands. “That’d be me. Sorry if I was too loud. Cas kept telling me to be quiet.” He looked surprisingly remorseful and Cas had to hold back a smile. “Oh and your food is awesome by the way!” he gestured with the now empty lamp chop bone. 

Gabe was trying not to laugh, Cas could see it all over his face. “How high did you get this guy Cassie? Geez.” 

“I’m a lightweight.” Dean said, shrugging. “And we’ve been drinking too.” Cas rolled his eyes and nudged Dean’s shoulder, nearly knocking him off balance. 

Gabe did laugh then. “You are damn lucky that I love you little bro.” he said, shaking his head. “Well, to answer your earlier comment, yes I did have a date tonight and it went rather well. I would appreciate it –“ 

“Gabe?” a male voice spoke up from the hallway. The man in question appeared a moment later, shirtless; jeans slung low on his hips. His hair was ruffled and Cas assumed they had just woken him up too. 

“Sorry kiddo. I didn’t mean to wake you up.” 

“It’s fine. What’s going on?” the guy said as he yawned. He rubbed a hand over his face in a gesture that reminded Cas of Dean. 

“Well gorgeous, you remember that baby brother I told you about. The one who likes to randomly show up at my place from time to time? Ta-da!” he did a showy little wave in Cas’ direction.

Cas lifted a hand to wave, or something equally stupid, when the guys face scrunched up in confusion. 

“Dean?”

Cas looked over at Dean, who had his head balanced on his folded arms on the back of the couch now, the plate held out in front of him. He couldn’t see it from where he was standing, but by his posture he though Dean’s eyes were probably closed. At the sound of his name though, he sat up, looking around. 

“Sammy?” he said when he caught sight of the man standing with Gabe. 

Gabe’s eyebrows were both raised now, his eyes darting between the two men. 

“Dean, like your brother Dean?” 

The other guy, Sammy, nodded. Cas looked at Dean again. “Wait, so that’s Sam?” 

Dean looked at him over his shoulder. His eyebrows were pinched together and he looked a little shell shocked. 

“Yeah. That’s Sammy.” 

Cas caught Gabe’s eye and watched as his face started to crack. He let out a loud laugh, his head tipping back and his hands clapping loudly together. 

“Oh man, Cassie. This is priceless. I don’t know how you did it. You managed to make friends with the brother of the guy I’m seeing and sneak him into my apartment the night his brother is here with me. Wait until I tell Michael and Luke about this.” His grin was enormous. 

Castiel groaned. He was never going to live this one down. 

Sam was staring at Gabe with fond annoyance on his face. “You seriously think this is funny? My drunk-“

“and high!” Dean added, helpfully. 

Sam rolled his eyes. “-drunk and high brother showing up in the middle of the night, with your brother, crashing our date?” 

Gabe nodded his head. “Yup! Hilarious.” He said. Sam’s smile was almost there now, a little curve to the edge of his mouth that even Cas could see. “Come on now, at least he thought the lamp chops were great.” Gabe added. 

Sam ran his hand through his hair, the smile finally coming out. “You are all ridiculous.” 

Gabe laughed again, picking up Sam’s hand and kissing the back of it. “Alright Cassie. You know I love you but you guys need to scram. You think Meg will let you crash with her for the night? I’ll give you money for a cab for both of you. Sam can get Dean’s car in the morning.” 

“Gabe. It’s fine, they can both go to my place. Dean has a key and Charlie won’t care. She’s probably still awake even.” 

“Cas?”

Cas thought about it but decided showing up on Meg’s doorstop at three in the morning was more than he wanted to deal with at the moment. “Yeah, that’s fine. Thank you, Sam. I’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances. Maybe we can all get coffee in the morning? Well, later this morning.”

Sam nodded. “That would be great. I was already supposed to meet up with Dean anyway.” 

Cas came around the couch, taking the plate out of Dean’s hands and walking it to the counter. Gabe left and came back a moment later with a few bills in his hand.

“See you in the morning little bro. Don’t let Deano doing anything stupid.” 

Cas nodded, taking the money and pulling Gabe in for a short one-armed hug. 

“Come on Dean.” He said, patting him on the shoulder. 

Dean stood and followed him, calling out “Night bitch!” behind him. 

“Night Jerk!” Sam responded. 

Cas heard the soft murmur of Gabe’s voice as the door shut behind them.


	6. Epilogue

“Alright Cas, like I showed you. Just line up the dot on the front sight with the two dots on the back and center it on the can. Got it?”

Cas nodded, following the instructions. The three white dots made a tidy line across the logo on a Folgers can perched on the hood of a rusted old Toyota. 

“Ok then keep your wrists straight, but bend your elbows a little. It helps with the recoil. Ok good.” He came forward and adjusted Cas’ hands on the handle. “Watch your grip there. If you get too high like that the slide will come back and catch you. I can say from experience it hurts like a bitch.” 

Cas nodded, looking at his hands and trying to memorize their placement. 

“Now, finger on the trigger. Just the tip, remember”

Cas snorted a little and Dean rolled his eyes. “Shuddup. Ok squeeze the trigger, nice and easy.” 

Cas followed his instructions, squeezing with a steady pressure until the gun fired. He was almost used to the noise now, having spent the last hour watching Dean before asking to try it for himself. The gun jumped in his hand, surprising him even though he should have expected it. 

“Wow, it moves a lot more than I thought it would.” He said. 

Dean nodded. “Yeah. It’s a lot harder than it looks on TV, that’s for sure. Ready to try the next one?” 

Cas steadied himself and lined up the shot. He fired and heard a satisfying ping.

“Good one, Cas!” Dean clapped him on the shoulder as he said it. “Ok put it down on the table and I’ll go grab the can.” The table in question was a stack of milk crates standing waist high next to him. Cas did as he was told, laying the weapon down, muzzle pointed away from where Dean would be walking. Dean jogged out to the car and picked up the can, grinning brightly. 

“Damn. You are turning into a really great shot!” he said. 

He held the can out to Cas, who took it. The shot had hit above the O in the logo, higher than center but still pretty close. Cas ran his fingers over it, tracing the path through to the back of the can, where another hole signaled the bullets exit. He smiled down at it. 

“Can I keep this?” 

Dean laughed. “Yeah Cas. Of course. Hey, you want a beer?”

Cas nodded. He and Dean both sat down in the old lawn chairs Dean had carried out with them earlier, the cooler nestled between the chairs. He took a long drink of his beer when Dean handed it to him. It had been a hot day and it was quickly turning into a warm evening. Not quite summer yet but definitely headed in that direction. The cool beer felt good going down though and he sighed happily, letting his head drop back onto the chair. 

“So I read your book.”

“I would hope so after all the fuss you made about me sending you a copy.” Cas said. His eyes were closed, the suns rays turning his vision pink behind his eyelids. 

Dean snorted and Cas heard his bottle swish. “I really liked that Dan guy. He sounds hot. Tall, blonde, green eyes, freckles…” he trailed off. 

Cas hid his smirk well. “Yeah. I kind thought so too.” He said, trying to keep his voice even. 

“Oh come on man! You made me the main character and you didn’t even tell me!”

“Dean. I have no idea what you’re talking about. You are not now, nor have you ever been a blonde.” 

Dean scoffed next to him and Cas felt his cheeks aching. He let out a slow breath, trying to keep his face placid.  


“Bullshit. He’s a mechanic, he listens to classic rock, and he loves his car! Though, I don’t know why you didn’t just put Baby in the book too. I mean, really, a gold Lincoln Continental?”

“Gabriel drove one in high school and I always liked that car.” Cas said seriously, “and anyway, it says right in the front of the book that any resemblance to persons real or fictional is purely a coincidence.” 

Dean scoffed louder this time. Cas cracked open one eye and turned to look at him. His green eyes were trained on Cas’ face, his mouth held comically open in a show of exasperation. Cas broke. He grinned and laughed, sitting up again. 

“Why would I spoil the surprise by telling you I put you in there? This was totally worth keeping it a secret. Hell, I even had to tell Sam and Gabe not to tell you because I knew they would both read it first.” 

Dean shook his head. “Jerks. The whole lot of you.” He grumbled into the mouth of his bottle before he took another long pull of his beer.

“It could have been worse you know. I modeled Lucifer after my brother Luke. He was not happy at all when he figured it out. Gabriel thought it was a riot.” 

Dean chuckled at that. He hadn’t met Cas’ older brothers yet but he had heard enough stories that Cas was sure he understood what the fallout had looked like. 

“Was it weird to write the sex scene? With me in it, I mean?” Dean said. His voice was softer and when Cas looked at his him could see the familiar flush on his cheeks. Dean wouldn’t meet his eyes. 

“No more than any other sex scene.” He said, shrugging. 

“Did they say anything about you making the main character gay? Well, and the angel?”

“Yeah. They tried to convince me to make the angel a woman but I told them the angel has no gender really and he doesn’t care about sexual orientation. I don’t think they were happy with it but they let it go after a while.” 

Dean nodded. He was staring out into the salvage yard, or maybe past it. On the edge of the property was a chain link fence and on the other side just a large field of softly swaying grass. Cas stared out at it for a while too. 

“You know, I got the idea to make you one of my characters the first day we met. At Balthazar’s place.”

Dean glanced at him, “Yeah? I charmed you that much, huh?”

“I guess so,” Cas said, he ran his hand down the side of the bottle, collecting condensation before pressing his damp fingers to the back of his neck. “I thought you were good looking and that people would respond well to that. The charm helped though, and then when we really go to know one another I felt like you were a good representation of humanity. The good parts of it anyway.”

Deans face flushed again as he looked back out into the grass. “I think you took artistic license on that one.”

Cas just shook his head. It was too nice a day to dredge up this old argument. He took another drink. 

“I went to Sam and Gabe’s new place before I left.”

“Yeah? Is it nice? Sam tried to show me over skype but something messed up and we didn’t get past the living room.” 

“It is nice. They have two bedrooms now, which is good for us. I tried sleeping on their couch a couple of times at the old place and was woken up by the two of them. It will be great to have an extra door between us now.”

Dean made a face, grimacing at the idea of overhearing their brothers’ sex life. “I might just stay in a motel next time I visit.” 

“You could always stay with Meg again.” Cas said, snorting over the mouth of his bottle. 

“Hell no. That woman is the devil, Cas. I don’t know why you like her so much. You remember that party! I woke up wearing lipstick and a pair of panties over my boxers!”

“To be fair, Dean. You did put the panties on yourself.” Cas snickered. 

Dean groaned and slumped down in his chair. The hum of insects and the swish of the grass was soothing to them both and they settled into an easy silence, finishing their beers and opening new ones. They stayed out there until the sun went down and the pink and orange sky turned dark.

**Author's Note:**

> On Tumblr at [DestielTrashland.](http://destieltrashland.tumblr.com)
> 
> As always a shout-out to my muse [Moontourist!](http://archiveofourown.org/users/moontourist/pseuds/moontourist)


End file.
